I wasn’t sure if he knew what time my workplace closed so donned a blue coat, bought a blue plastic fedora, added a jaunty yellow paper band to it, and spent the afternoon at various locations handing out candy. Yes, I assumed the role of Leap Day William for a time, and one person knew who I was, so it was a success.

“Who is Leap Day William?” you ask. Groundhog Day has… a groundhog. And Bill Murray. The Fourth of July has Uncle Sam. There’s the Easter Bunny, Santa Claus, the Tooth Fairy, the Great Pumpkin, and a host of mythological (?) characters that show up throughout the year. While you might not have been raised with the idea of a sharply dressed man in blue and yellow popping up on February 29th, there is also a Leap Day William.

For the uninitiated—someone who is not a 30 Rock superfan—Leap Day William is the keystone of a leap year tradition, where you wear blue and yellow; you stand around and pretend to cry so Leap Day William showers you with sweets (“He emerges every four years to trade children’s tears for candy”); if you see someone not wearing yellow and blue, you are entitled to shout, “Poke your eyes, pull your hair, you forgot what clothes to wear,” and poke and pull.

To some Leap Day is a magical day, an extra day, on which you can do daring and glorious things. To others it means doing whatever you want because your actions don’t count. I was also informed that women can propose to men on this day (which led to interesting discussions about a movie I haven’t seen, curiosity about which women would actually do it, and a group text gone hilariously wrong).

For me, today was about blowing off the stressful, annoying, and distracting things that try to muddy our workday and trying to bring a ray of blue and yellow sunshine into the daily grind. Whether it scared children, infringed on some NBC trademark, or began an annual– well, every four year– tradition, it was good to be counterfeit Leap Year William for a time. For some it’s been so long since the Easter Bunny or Publisher’s Clearinghouse visited that perhaps it added a touch of childlike wonder to their day.

Or now they need therapy. But at least they have candy.

P.S. If someone finds the yellow paper hat band I MacGyvered together at lunch with scrap paper, a Leatherman tool, and adhesive material from a book of stamps, no, it’s not a failed attempt at a Mobius strip. I actually know how to make those.

Each holiday has an approximate place– no Christmas in July, no Valentines in December, no Nightmare Before St. Patrick’s Day. I would be fine with the wearing of costumes to all such events to boost the celebratory cheer as such garb could be relevant to each holiday. I proposed a Christmas party where people would dress up as their favorite Claymation character– Rudolph, King Moonracer, Hermey, Boss Elf, etc.

Christmas is a season to me, not a day, and I have no issue with leaving decorations up for a few more weeks. It takes a lot of work to put them up and they bring an extra sparkle to dreary winter nights. But– aagh, they all seem to run together now, with no buffer between them. Someone already sent me a card with Santa, Dracula, the Easter Bunny, and the whole pop culture pantheon represented. One card does it all! And in the meantime we lose sight of the divine origins and meanings of some of these days, like an all-powerful God coming to earth to give us lasting hope and life.

Retail sector– could we at least get a bit of a breather before you launch into the holidays for the next four to six months? The Christmas season is intense and we need a break before you start dangling plastic trinkets we don’t actually need for the next round. Ooh, look, a glow-in-the-dark leprechaun…